


Meeting Family

by kenporusty



Series: Personal Assistant [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Businessman AU, Fluff, Follow up of Personal Assistant, Graham has a huge house, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenporusty/pseuds/kenporusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is invited to dinner to meet Graham's daughter, and break the news of their relationship to her.</p><p>If you haven't read <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/742518/chapters/1382939">Personal Assistant</a>, I recommend you do so before reading this, or you will be a little lost.</p><p>EDIT:<br/>Title change so people who haven't read PA aren't confused as to who Liz is!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Family

**Author's Note:**

> I DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT GRAHAM'S PERSONAL LIFE OR FAMILY.
> 
> This is so much of an AU it's ridiculous.
> 
> I'm just a fan, so I haven't pried into his personal life. The discussion of his family is purely fictional, as is the family that is portrayed within.  
> No actual insult is meant to the man's real family.
> 
> (I just felt like I had to add that in there)

Dean shifted his weight, waiting for someone to answer the door. Normally if he were going to Graham’s, he would have just walked in after knocking twice, but Graham told him that barging into the house this week could possibly be detrimental to his health. Dean wasn’t quite sure to make of that, but if it involved him leaving the house again will all limbs attached, he was quite fine with knocking and waiting.

He twisted to look at Graham’s grey Jaguar sitting in the drive of the large brownstone house on the outskirts of Edinburgh. Dean had to take a bus and then walk some more distance to reach the estate; feeling like every Scottish housewife in the neighborhood was glaring daggers at the filthy, poor New Zealander, invading their perfect bubble of rich perfection. He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets, tempted to knock or ring the bell again when an angry, female expy of Graham yanked the door open.

“What do you want?” She snapped, giving Dean a critical look.

No, she wasn’t a complete copy of Graham, she was shorter, but still taller than Dean, her skin was the obnoxious color of someone who spent too much time in the tropical heat, and her hair was shot platinum blond, pulled up into a ridiculous loose bun at the top of her head.

“I’m here to see Graham, my name is,” Dean started.

“Yeah, Dean O’Gorman, the man who bailed out on my da. Hold on, let me get him.” She cut him off then slammed the door in his face.

Dean took a step back in surprise. How could anyone so polite, so sweet, so _caring_ produce…that?

There was the sound of shouting behind the door before it was pulled open by a frazzled looking Graham.

“I’m sorry about that, Dean, come on in, please,” he stepped aside while giving his daughter a dirty look.

“It’s no problem, Graham,” Dean said with a smile, wincing inside at the fakeness of the gesture. He felt Liz begin to bristle.

“You’re on first-name basis with your boss?” She huffed.

“Former boss,” Graham reminded her with a stern look. “And you know me, Liz; I’m on first name basis with all my employees.”

Graham shut the door, Dean slipped off his shoes - and dropped another half inch in height, and Liz stomped off in a huff to flop down in front of the television.

“Lovely daughter you’ve got there,” Dean said quietly, unsure whether it was okay to touch or kiss Graham with her around.

Graham gathered Dean in his arms and bent to give him a sweet kiss, “she’s not usually like this. She’s been cranky since she came back, and I’m not sure why. I guess it’s because I asked her to come here instead of going immediately to her mother’s in London. She’s closer to her mother than to me.”

Graham sighed, but didn’t let Dean go. Dean ducked his head and leaned into Graham’s chest, enjoying the warmth and comfort.

“Sorry to be such a bother,” Dean sighed and pulled away.

“You’re not being a bother. Come on, suppers almost ready; let me show you the house.”

Graham shifted to wrap his arm around Dean’s shoulder, waving to the various rooms.

“Dining room, parlor, and liquor closet.” Dean was flummoxed as to how a kitchen could be so enormous and so modern. He was positively floored to learn the “master bedroom” had its own sitting room, a walk-in closet that connected with the palatial bathroom, and took up most of the top floor of the house.

“I didn’t think things got this big here,” Dean whistled.

“The architects were American. I guess they wanted to bring the ‘go big or go home’ attitude to little, old Scotland.” Graham shrugged. “It was fine when,” he trailed off.

That memory was still a little raw, despite the three years.

Dean curled around Graham and gave him a supportive hug. Graham cupped his face, bending down to give Dean a fiery kiss. Dean whimpered and pressed closer.

“So, when do we test out that bathtub and the bed?” Dean whispered, voice gone rough.

Graham laughed, “Best wait until Liz goes back to London.”

“When will that be,” Dean whined.

“Two days.”

“It’s a fucking date.”

Graham laughed at the double meaning and let Dean go, linking their fingers as he showed Dean the rest of the house.

*****

“So, Dean, how’s life treating you at Armitage and Pace?” Graham made small talk while they set the surprisingly small dining room table.

Liz remained in a state somewhere between resolutely frosty and bitchy.

“Pretty good, they’re almost as relaxed as you are, but I can’t call them by their first names. Well, Mr. Armitage doesn’t mind me calling him Richard every once in a while, but Mr. Pace,” Dean whistled. “One of the poor sods in the office called him ‘Lee’ and Mr. Pace lost it. Almost fired the girl. Mr. Armitage had to chase her down, comfort her, and tell her that it was a mistake, and she kept her job. Gave her the afternoon off, though.”

“That sounds pretty,” Graham paused, thinking. “Conflicting.”

“Yeah, it can be,” Dean shrugged, placing the carafe of iced tea on the table.

“Liz, what do you do for a living?” Dean asked with all effort of politeness.

“Checker at Sainsbury’s,” Liz replied, not looking up from a text message on her phone. “Going to University next semester.”

“Very nice, what will you be studying?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t quite decided yet,” Liz looked up from her phone to fix Dean with a cold glare and gave a grandiose sigh.

“Now, Liz, he’s only being polite,” Graham said sternly, “try not being so cold, and could you please put your phone away?”

Liz sighed again and jammed the iPhone in the back pocket of her jeans.

“Good lass, now can you help a bit?”

She gave a put-upon sigh, grabbed the bowl of corn and set it on the table next to the ham.

*****

“Da, you cook way too much food,” she said, the frostiness and bitch aside for once.

“Sorry, I’m still used to cooking for the three of us.” Graham pulled out his chair and sat, scooting Dean’s out with his foot.

“It’s been three years, da,” Liz’s voice had definitely softened. She sounded sweeter.

“I know, honey, but sometimes it’s really hard to change a routine after that many years. When your mam and I first got married, she always laughed at me because when I fixed dinner, I only made enough for myself. Couldn’t blame me, though, I was a bachelor up until then.” Graham laughed a little.

Liz looked surprised at the use of “mam” instead of “mother.”

“You haven’t called her that in three years,” she said quietly, shoving at the ham, potatoes, and corn with her fork.

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, “it’s been hard, I know, and I’m sorry we put you through that.”

She nuzzled his fingers with her cheek, “I know, da, I know.”

They sat in comfortable and companionable silence for a few long moments.

“So, Dean, are you going back to New Zealand when your visa runs out?” Liz asked Dean without a hint of bitch or cold.

“No, actually, I just applied for residency so I can stay. I might have to leave to pick up some things in storage like my camera and the rest of my clothes, but the only way I’m leaving is if I don’t get residency, or Graham comes with me.”

Dean covered his mouth soon as the sentence left, and Graham shot him a look Dean couldn’t quite read. Nonetheless, he felt himself turn an alarming shade of pink.

Liz dialed up the frost.

“Unless my da comes with you?” She asked slowly, emphasizing ‘da’ and ‘you.’ Add in an arched eyebrow, and Dean felt like he’s messed everything up.

Graham cleared his throat and pulled Dean’s chair closer to his.

“We were going to let you know after dinner was finished, but apparently someone just can’t wait, eh?” Graham said, throwing an arm around Dean.

“We?” Dean squeaked.

Liz laughed, “You were going to wait until after dinner? Like this was some big secret?”

“Well, for a while it was,” Graham muttered. He squeezed Dean’s shoulder and relinquished him to readjust his seat to back in front of his own plate.

“This shouldn’t be a secret! Da, I’m proud of you! About time you found someone in your life, and stopped practically living at work!”

“He still does that last part,” Dean said quietly

Graham gave him a look and Liz laughed, an honest, happy laugh, for the first time the whole afternoon.

*****

After dinner was finished, dessert served (a lovely chocolate torte from the bakery near Aidan’s coffee shop), leftovers packed, dishes washed, and television turned back on, Dean found himself lounging on the sofa, back to Graham’s chest, listening to the older man’s slow, steady heartbeat. Liz perched in the armchair, ignoring both men and television for her phone, but she kept stealing small glances at them with a smile. Her fingers flew over the keyboard.

“She’s updating her Facebook status, I’m sure.” Graham said.

“’My dad met the man of his dreams and is now making stupid goo-goo faces at him on the sofa.’” Dean teased.

“’My dad met an amazing Kiwi who is making him think less about work and more about life.’” Graham said wisely. Dean’s heart raced just a bit.

“My da and some strange man from the opposite end of the world are trying so hard not to make out on the sofa it’s kind of disgusting. Going to leave them alone now,” Liz narrated as she typed with a grin.

“I’m going to my room now. Night, da. Dean, it was a pleasure to meet you, and I’m sorry about being a complete bitch earlier.” Liz got up, kissed Graham’s cheek, and put her hand out for Dean to shake.

Dean took the proffered hand, shook, then kissed the back of it, “its okay, Liz. It was a wonder meeting you. I can understand why you would be a bit taken aback by your wonderful father suddenly inviting a strange man for dinner.”

Liz shrugged, dropped her hand, and ran up the stairs. Dean leaned over and grabbed his tablet, logged into Facebook and found a friend request from Liz. He accepted the request and read the first update with a laugh. Graham looked over his shoulder and groaned.

Dean added a response to her latest update, “You better give a yell if you’re going to come downstairs any time soon.”

From upstairs they heard, “Gross Dean!”

Graham kissed Dean’s neck and the tablet was instantly forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> It was hard, but fun, to write Liz as a complete frost giant.  
> Who knows, we may see more of her.  
> Also in this universe, Liz is older, she's around 24, meaning Graham and the unnamed wife's divorce occurred when she was 21.  
> Not sure why I wanted to make her older, but that's how it happened.
> 
> And trust me, even though you're in college when your parents divorce, it doesn't make the sting and betrayal any less. I should know.
> 
> I do intend to do a series of small fics within the PA universe, so if anyone has any prompts, leave them in the comments or as an ask on my [tumblr](http://kenporusty.tumblr.com)


End file.
